


Fucked up family

by CourtesyCall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, F/M, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Good Voldemort (Harry Potter), Hermione Granger Bashing, M/M, Molly Weasley Bashing, Mpreg, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29167413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourtesyCall/pseuds/CourtesyCall
Summary: Harry wants to get a gift for Hermione's birthday so he sneaks out of Grimmauld Place. His first stop is Gringotts, but in the bank his life crumbles to his feet. Lies fade away, leaving a crude truth in their place. Will Harry rise above or will he burn down the world?
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Marcus Flint/Harry Potter
Comments: 94
Kudos: 354





	1. Lies, Deceits and Goblins

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I post on here. I'm not the most stable person but if people show interest I'll make sure to post often and regularly.

The bespectacled boy keeps his head down as he walks through Diagon Alley, terrified that someone might recognize him. Harry escaped the surveillance of the Order at Grimmauld Place so he could come buy something for his best friend's birthday, Hermione, which is in September. They were currently the 13th of August and his trial at the Ministry was yesterday, so everyone kinda left him alone, which permitted him to sneak out in the late evening. He knew he shouldn't do it, but he hated being trapped and he wanted to give something special to Hermione. She stuck to his side during the tournament. Smiling to himself as he imagines the brunette reaction, the Boy-Who-Lived enters Gringotts, intending to get some money. He makes his way to the front desk, nervously shuffling with his three times too big sweater’s sleeve. Goblins always make him a bit nervous. The teller takes some time to acknowledge him, his eyes narrowing on his scar.

\- Mr. Potter, we have been trying to get a hold of you for almost a year, and it's only now you dignify us with a response?

Harry shrinks upon hearing the angry tone of the creature and frowns in confusion. Did they really try to get in contact with him? Why hadn't he known about it? Gulping down his fear, since he was still recovering from his much more violent than usual summer at the Dursley's, he lets out shakily:

\- I'm sorry, Master Goblin, but I haven't received anything from Gringotts. Have I known, I would have come sooner.

The Goblin stares at him disbelievingly for what seems to be the longest minute in Harry Potter's life, but the child's face only speak of innocence, so he softens a bit as he sends a short notice to one of his colleagues.

\- I see. I called the manager of the Potter estate so you can discuss the matter further.

\- Oh! No, I don't want to cause any problem, I know it's…

A stern, but non-aggressive, look from the Goblin silences the boy.

\- None of this nonsense, Mr. Potter. It is not an inconvenience.

The Gringotts employee can't help but give in when his instinct is to soothes the scared and way too small for his age child. Goblins’ instincts very rarely miss the mark, that's why they are so good with money after all. After a couple of seconds where the young wizard widgets under the stare of the teller, a Goblin appears seemingly out of nowhere. He's wearing a dark fitted costume, but the stern look is quietly erased by the bright lilac pointy hat he is wearing. He says nothing before making a sign for Harry to follow him, which he does, but not before flashing a shy smile to the Goblin who helped him.

\- Thank you, Master Goblin.

As he walks out of the room, he misses the gobsmacked look he earns himself, because wizards never thank Goblins that respectfully. They usually sneer at them. But after all, this child is a Potter.

Said child follows the silent manager of the Potter estate through many corridors, trying to ignore the worry settling in his stomach. He has no idea what is going on. He just wants a couple of gallons in order to buy Hermione a present, but, like always, it seems like nothing in his life can be simple. They enter an office who looks nothing short but expensive. The desk and the cabinets were crafted in the most luxurious mahogany wood Harry has ever seen, and there's a freaking chandelier over their head. The walls sport some metallic emblem, containing green emeralds. As enchanted he is, the teen doesn't miss when the Goblin starts doing complicated hand gestures, similar to some he uses with his wand. Then, the creature turns to him and offers him a smile which he assumed should terrify him but seems oddly normal on the small being.

\- Little Harry! I have waited for you for so long, he exclaims, practically bouncing as he gets to his seat.

He gestures for the wizard to sit and Harry obeys, disturbed by the clear contrast in demeanor from the Goblin. They always are so silent, stern, McGonagallesque, but this one shows more emotions he thought possible for them to feel. And he acts so familiar, it is weird. Some of his confusion probably showed on his face, because the Goblin frowned.

\- You probably don't remember me. I am Nagnok, manager of the Potter Estate. Your dad was a friend of the Goblin Nation and one of the only wizards I dare to call close to me.

What the hell? His dad was a friend of the Goblin Nation? Contrary to what most people think, Harry is not stupid. Therefore, he knows exactly how big of a deal this is. It is one of the greatest honor one wizard could receive. And this Nagnok seems to be very fond of his father. It looks like he may have seen him when he was a baby. There are a million questions swirling in the youngest’s mind and he can't help but blurt out the one that has been nagging in his head for the last minutes, even if he doesn't like asking questions.

\- I'm sorry, sir, but what exactly is an Estate?

Nagnok suddenly feels like his world stopped. The son of James Potter, little Harry, who he last saw fourteen years ago just asked him what was an estate?! He felt like choking or killing Dumbledore. There's no way that the old fool hadn't had a hand in this. Well, that was for later, since he had the most adorable teen he has ever seen seating across him and he seems in desperate need for help.

\- An estate is all the money and property owned by a particular person or a particular family. And none of this sir stuff, little one. Call me Nagnok.

\- Huh, ok, Nagnok. But why do I have a manager? I mean, I know there's a lot of money in my vault, but it's not like I can take it out.

The Goblin can't help but start swearing in Gobbledegook, because that was definitely what he didn't want to hear. Even if he knew that Dumbledore had taken control of the Potter money and that he took away little Harry, but he still had hoped the boy would grow up knowing about himself and his estate.

\- The Vault you probably refer to is nothing but your school trust fund, Harry. The Potter estate is way more than that.

The greed he thought would appear in the eyes of the child never showed itself, only pure sadness in his place. And betrayal. Nagnok was surprised to see a resigned smile on the other's face.

\- Let me guess: Everybody knows about that, except me?

It was a truly heartbreaking sight to see a so young human being so used to betrayal he wasn't even fazed by it. Harry, again, was not as stupid as everybody liked to think. He had begun to trust the Headmaster less and less since the beginning of last year, thanks to tournament. The old coot's attitude at his trial a couple of days ago was just the last straw. He resigned himself to only be a pawn and to die in the war, be it to the Dark Lord's wand or the Greatest Wizard of his time’s. An idea suddenly struck him as he dwells over the last year's event.

\- Do you think there is a way for me to have the control of the estate? Maybe I could get away from Dumbledore’s clutches.

A feral grin appears on the Goblin face. Such a brilliant youngling. He could easily be a great Lord with this mindset.

\- The easiest thing for you to do would be an inheritance test, then ask Lady Magic for emancipation.

Harry arches a brow, trying to figure out where the trap is. Nagnok picks up on his wary attitude and laughs it off as he gets the parchment to do the inheritance test.

\- Don't worry, little Harry. Your well-being is really important to me. James once told me that if he had been able to, he would have named me godfather.

\- Really? The boy asks excitedly.

Sirius and Remus may tell him some stories, he is still desperate to know more about his parents.

\- Yes, now, we need thirteen drops of blood on the parchment. After all of this, I will tell you about James, I promise.

Even if he grew up to not trust adults, Harry knows he doesn't have to be afraid of the Goblin. Something in him screams of safety and affection, as strange as it sounds considering his species. But after all, the raven-haired teen has never been normal. So, he picks the beautifully crafted dagger and slices in his thumb, counting methodically the blood drops. Right after the last one, Nagnok press gently the cut and it heals instantly. Harry thanks him profusely, not used to people taking care of him, as parchment after parchment, ink appears, until there are at least 400 sheets piled up on the desk. Nagnok chuckles when sees the dumbfounded look of his protégé.

\- Don't worry, you only really need the first three pages. The rest are your vaults, what's in it, the companies your ancestors have invested in and your bank statements of the last two years. Those are for me to bore myself with.

A giggle escapes the fifteen years old as he takes the parchment, but instantly dies upon seeing the first line.

Name: Hadrian Orion Abraxas Potter Malfoy Black

\- Nagnok, I think it's wrong.

The Goblin looks at the sheet before blanching thoroughly and swearing again, in English this time. It is truly surprising to see what colorful words he has in stock.

\- Sadly, I don't think it's wrong. James loved you more than anything, Harry, and I think he did that to protect you. From Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. Miss Evans was his best friend and his confident, but they were never in love with each other. They were both in love with the wrong side of the war.

Nodding absentmindly, Harry takes back the parchment, confused as hell, but willing to get answers. Now is the time to be a Slytherin and shove his emotions in the back of his head. It's with that mindset that he starts to read again.

_Name: Hadrian Orion Abraxas Potter Malfoy Black_

_Sire(s): Regulus Arcturus Black & Lucius Abraxas Malfoy_

_Bearer: James Charlus Potter_

_Date of birth: July 31st, 1980_

_Godparents: Bellatrix Elladora Lestrange nee Black 1st_

_Severus Tobias Snape 1st_

_Cyrus William Greengrass 2nd_

_Amali Morgana Parkinson 2nd_

_Sirius Pollux Black 3rd_

_Alice Calidora Longbottom nee Fawley 3rd_

_Status: Emancipated by magical contract fulfillment_

_Lordships:_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Black (unclaimed)_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Potter (unclaimed)_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Peverell (unclaimed)_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Gryffindor (unclaimed)_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Ravenclaw (unclaimed)_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Slytherin by conquest (unclaimed)_

_Ancient house of Gaunt by conquest (unclaimed)_

_Heirships:_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Lestrange through Godmother_

_Noble and most Ancient house of Prince through Godfather_

_2nd to Noble and most Ancient house of Malefoy_

_2nd to Noble and most Ancient house of Longbottom through Godmother_

_3rd to Noble and most Ancient house of Greengrass through Godfather_

_3rd to Noble and most Ancient house of Parkinson through Godmother_

_Vaults:_

_View pages 7 to 276 for the detailed list_

_Properties:_

_Potter Manor (Scotland)_

_Potter Palace (Portugal)_

_Marauder's hideout (Ireland)_

_Remus’ sanctuary (Canada)_

_Godric's Hollow Cottage (England)_

_4 Privet Drive (England)_

_12 Grimmauld Place (England)_

_Gryffindor Castle (England)_

_Lions’ Den (Italia)_

_Ravenclaw Villa (Greece)_

_Eagles' nest (England)_

_Slytherin Manor (England)_

_Snakes' pit (France)_

_¾ Hogwarts (Scotland)_

_Peverell Manor (Scotland)_

_Gaunt Shack (England)_

_Riddle House (England)_

_Companies:_

_View pages 3 to 6 for the detailed list_

_Wand(s):_

_Holly 11" Phoenix feather core: 85% (trace)_

_Magical alterations:_

_70% Magical Core block (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore)_

_Compulsion to befriend Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_Compulsion to follow Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore’s orders_

_Loyalty potion keyed to Molly Weasley nee Prewett_

_Loyalty potion keyed to Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_Loyalty potion keyed to Hermione Jean Granger_

_Loyalty potion keyed to Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore_

_75% intelligence block (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore)_

_Leech on magical core (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore)_

_Love Potion keyed to Ginevra Molly Weasley_

_Blood Glamour (magical signature: James Charlus Potter)_

_Horcrux (magical and soul signature: Tom Marvolo Riddle)_

_Compulsion to hate Slytherins (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore)_

_Compulsion to hate Severus Tobias Snape (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore)_

_Compulsion to hate the Malfoy family (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore)_

_Compulsion to hate Dark Arts (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore)_

_Memory block (magical signature: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore and Molly Weasley nee Prewett)_

_Contracts:_

_Triwizard tournament contract (fulfilled)_

_Betrothal contract with Ginevra Molly Weasley_

The hero of the wizarding world sits unseeing for long minutes trying to make sense of the words on the parchment. Everything he had been led to believe is false. Even his name is a lie. And now, he has to find what to do with this information. Oh, if only he could talk with his father for a few minutes. Maybe he would know what to do. A part of his brain reminds him that one of his dads was still alive, but he shuts it up very quickly. There is no way in hell he would ask anything to Lucius Malfoy, father or not. Problem is he needs help, but he doesn’t know who to go to. Dumbledore and his best friends are out of the fucking question, he doesn’t know if he can trust Remus and Sirius anymore and the professors at Hogwarts are too close to the Headmaster. He can’t ask for help from the dark either, they would kill him on sight. With a sigh, Harry decides to ask from the only familiar and somewhat neutral name he saw on the paper. Cyrus Greengrass. He knows both of the sisters and, while in Slytherin, they never went out of their way to harass him.

\- Nagnok, could you please floo Cyrus Greengrass to tell him I request a meeting with him?


	2. Kitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think Harry should end up with?
> 
> Tell me in the comments. I write pretty much anything, from Tomarry to the rarest freaking pairing you can imagine. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Meanwhile in a manor in the middle of the Derbyshire…

Cyrus Greengrass prides himself in being a simple man. While he is a pureblood lord, he never invested himself in the war. The most important thing to him is his way too sarcastic wife and his daughters, both of them being his pride and joy. Though he sure hopes the dark side will win, if only for the sake of wizarding tradition. Meditating on the future of the wizarding world, the man closes his book just as Herya, his spouse, enters the drawing room.

\- There is a floo-call for you in the main room.

Instantly, his curiosity is piqued. It’s ten at night, who would be calling? It certainly isn’t a family member or a friend, they would have flooed in directly.

\- Who is it? He asks while replacing the book on the bookshelf.  
\- Santa Claus, deadpans the beautiful blonde lounging on the couch with a notebook. 

Chuckling to himself, Cyrus makes his way to the fireplace in the main room, only to find a goblin waiting impatiently for him. Well, isn’t that curious? Goblins don’t usually do floo-calls, they send letters. Unless it’s an emergency. 

\- Lord Greengrass, greets the Goblin, an odd look on his face. My client, Mr. Potter, requires an immediate meeting with you. 

Why would Harry Potter require a meeting with him? And on a so short notice? Even though he doesn’t like admitting it, Cyrus has a slightly invasive fault. He is overly curious. Too much for his own good. Hence, he agrees to floo to Gringotts in a few minutes, without really thinking it through. His mind is making up all sorts of scenarios as he makes his way back to the drawing room where his youngest and his wife are chatting animatedly, all more unlikely than the other.

\- Harry Potter and his personal goblin just asked for a meeting with me, he announces, still bewildered.

Never in his life had he seen Astoria jumps on her feet that fast and call for a house elf to bring her a cloak.

\- I’m coming with you, she declares when faced with raised eyebrows.  
\- Tori, are you sure that’s wise considering the recent developments? Worries her mother.

A few weeks ago, Cyrus and Lucius had signed the betrothal contract for the two teens. Far from the stereotypes the muggleborns have, this tradition is always done without any coercion. It is used as a way to hold the young ones accountable for their actions and to avoid any problem. The fourteen years old waves away any concerns.

\- This has nothing to do with that. And Draco will suck it up. 

Oh, she loves Draco, that isn’t even up for debate, but she can also see that he sometimes acts like a spoiled brat. And, in any case, she is his equal. She has every right to do whatever the hell she wants. With that in mind she makes a beeline for the floo, ignoring her parents protests. You see, Astoria is an observant young girl. She had seen what no one wanted to see. The broken little boy begging for help behind the Boy-Who-Lived mask. Too many flinches, slip-ups, sad and envious stares. No one but her sister had listened when she tried to say something and they had both decided that no matter how much it broke their hearts, they couldn’t do anything to help him yet. So they kept a close eye on their kitten, aching to do something.

Cyrus watches his youngest disappear in the green flames with a surprised expression and exchange a look with his wife before following her. Astoria always has been the rebel and loud sister, while Daphne is calmer. The problem is that Astoria doesn’t always know when to keep silent and says everything that crosses her mind. Cyrus would rather she didn’t start a war in the two minutes he left her unattended.

The blonde fourteen years old strides towards the office of the Goblin of the Potter family account and almost blast off the door off its hinges in her precipitation. Did she mention she’s protective of Harry, without even knowing him? The tiny Gryffindor flinches and stares at her in confusion when she crouches down in front of him. Why is the youngest Greengrass girl here? Shouldn’t her father had come in first? Why is she looking at him like he is some precious little thing?

\- Oh, kitten, she whispers when she sees how distraught he looks. What’s wrong?

Wait, did she just call him kitten? A man Hadrian has never seen before but guesses to be Cyrus Greengrass enters the office and closes the door behind him, taking in the scene. His daughter softly talking to the Golden Boy of the light side who looks completely out of it, the Goblin watching with frown and an emotion akin to concern in his eyes. That is very surprising, as Goblins don’t usually care for wizards. Cyrus clears his throat.

\- I’m sorry, Mr. Potter. Astoria can be a little bit overenthusiastic.

Hadrian shrugs slightly. He never had any problem with the Greengrass sisters, and she doesn’t seem threatening. Cyrus sits on the chair next to the teen, while Astoria obviously not knowing, or caring, about the concept of personal space, squeeze herself in the large chair with Hadrian. As a touch starved boy, he doesn’t really complain. 

\- What might be the reason for this short-notice meeting? Inquires the Lord.

His tone is gentle and nothing in his expression makes Hadrian feels on edge, so after exchanging a look with Nagnok, he starts slowly:

\- Er… I had to do an inheritance test and the results are… hum… surprising.   
\- Oh? What is it, sweetheart?

Put at ease by gentle demeanor of the younger girl who his currently playing with his hair, Hadrian unclenches his fist around the parchment and keeps his eyes casts downwards.

\- Well, it appears you’re my godfather, sir.

Cyrus blinks once, and twice. That doesn’t make any sense. None at all. He never actually met Lily Potter and had only really seen James in social functions. They both spat on anything that wasn’t Light and he was a neutral party. 

\- I reckon you were friends with Regulus Black or Lucius Malfoy? Continues Harry.

The man nods slowly. He doesn’t understand what is going on and he doesn’t like it. 

\- Lucius is one of my closest friends.

Swearing internally, the boy takes a deep breath to calm his nerves before stuttering really quickly:

\- James lied…My other parents are Regulus Black and Lucius Malfoy. 

Well, now it is said. Hadrian can’t keep down the tremors coursing through his body as the silence grows tenser second by second. What if Greengrass forces him to go to Malfoy and he gets delivered to Voldemort? On the other hand, does he really care? He had nothing to fight for. Apparently, his friends weren’t really his friends, the Light side was populated by as much, if not more, monsters than the Dark side, and he was tired of the lies and deceits. It’s not like anyone would care if he died. They would probably say it’s a good riddance.

\- That’s wicked! Bursts out Astoria, making everyone jump and look at her as if she is insane. You’re going to be my brother!

Hadrian glances at the hyper blonde then at her father before mouthing what? to the latter. Surprisingly, Greengrass lets out a booming laugh while looking at his daughter fondly.

\- Darling, I think you just confused the hell out of that poor boy.   
\- Oh sorry, she says sheepishly. Draco and I just got our betrothal contract signed. So you’re going to be my brother-in-law someday. 

He thought he couldn’t get anymore confused, but here he is. He looks at Nagnok, begging for help, because he’s not sure she’s still speaking English. What on Earth is a betrothal contract? 

\- Pre-engagement contract, explains the Goblin succinctly, causing the boy’s eyes to widen in horror.

Astoria is barely fourteen! He glances warily at Greengrass before leaning into the girl and asking lowly:

\- Do I need to plan an evasion for you? 

She smiles and hugs him. His life had just been turned upside down and yet he wants to help her, even though that could get him in real trouble, and he doesn’t know her.

\- I’ve been nagging my parents about signing it since I was nine. As much as he’s prat, I love Draco. 

He watches her expression carefully, looking for any indication that it’s not the truth and that he needs to get her out of there fast, but finds none. He had never thought about the fact that Malfoy Jr. is a human, well except when he was a bouncing ferret, and that people love him. He smiles hesitantly.

\- I guess it’s good you’re not delusional about him, like Parkinson.

Immediately, Astoria scowls and a look of horror paints on Cyrus’ face.

\- We do not speak of who she shall not be named, he explains, eyeing his child as if she was about to explode.

She only mutters something under her breath that sounds strangely like bitch. 

\- To come back to the topic, why are we here? Surely you would have called Dumbledore or yours friends first?

Hadrian only passes the man his results sheet as an answer. He doesn’t want to state the painful truth. He was betrayed. There is no right way to say this kind of things and, maybe, maybe, if he doesn’t voice it, it won’t be real. In a childish attempt to grip onto his denial, he simply watches his feet as the older man reads the paper.

Cyrus reads the parchment, anger, disbelief, and utter devastation curling in his guts. He had known Lucius since they were tiny kids, he is well aware of how much he wanted children. While he loves Draco, he always wanted another child. To think he had one all this time… A baby boy he spits the name of. And Regulus, oh Merlin, Regulus. He was a couple of years younger than them, but they’ve known each other for a while before he died. That boy was the most adorable little thing, but he could be vicious too. 

Then, he freezes. He just read about all the magical alterations on the boy. How in the nine circles of Hell he’s able to perform first-year level spells is a miracle. Damn Dumbledore could have killed him with all this shit! A part of him wants to scream and freak out, but he is suddenly very aware that what is needed right now is his help. With a deep breath, he lifts his eyes from the offending words and looks at the two teenagers beside him. His daughter is watching him with concern in her beautiful blue eyes, still running her fingers in the too still boy’s hair. He can see how just how frightened the raven-haired is from his place. 

\- We need to get all those compulsions and block off of you as soon as possible. We can deal with everything else when you’re not ticking time bomb. 

Hadrian’s head shots up in surprise. That is not the reaction he expected, not at all. In fact, he isn’t really sure what he expected. He’s even more surprised to see the small smile on Lord Greengrass’ face. Nagnok grins ruthlessly from the other side of the desk. Cyrus Greengrass is definitely the best person the young teen could have asked for help.

\- That can easily be fixed here…for a fee, of course.

Hadrian snorts softly. He actually likes the goblins, because they’re straightforward and he never has to wonder what they want out of him. They just say it. Nagnok offers him a toothy grin.

\- It’s settled, then. I will call a Goblin healer up here.


	3. Money

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to Chapter 3
> 
> A new chapter every Tuesday!

To say that the cleansing ritual is painful is the understatement of the century, but Hadrian is no stranger to pain. He sucks it up, refusing to let the tears pooling in his eyes fall. The healer informed him that the ritual would take away everything, except for the horcrux, as it is a completely different kind of magic. It could be useful, so he doesn’t press for it to be removed. If anything, he can use it as leverage against Voldemort. Merlin knows he will need everything he can get. Once the ritual done, a dizzy Hadrian is escorted back to Nagnok’s office and handed a vial of Reinvigorating potion which he downs without a second thought. He doesn’t really mind potions, as long as it’s not Snape who makes them. The bastard probably makes them taste horrible on purpose. He enters the room, interrupting Cyrus’ musings and Astoria’s horrified daze. While he was gone, she read over the parchment, her heart aching for him. 

They turn towards Hadrian, before making a double take. The blood glamour James put on him has fallen, leaving him looking like he always should have. Sadly, the ritual also took down his own glamour, the one his accidental magic put up since he was five, leaving his abuse more than obvious. Even as the Boy-Who-Lived, he wasn’t tall, but he is now the same height as Astoria, which is quite small. Additionally, even through the five times too big clothes, Cyrus can tell that the boy is painfully thin, and it makes him want to hide him in a blanket and nurse him back to health. The black hair is no longer a bird nest, but an array of mad curls, just like Regulus used to be. The sight makes Cyrus’s heart clench in grief. 

Hadrian looks around, searching for a reflective surface, anxiety making him gnaw at his bottom lip. He doesn’t care much about his appearance, he never had the luxury to, but there is one thing he cares about. The only thing he ever liked about himself. So, he almost cries in relief when he sees his reflection in a metal sword and stares into bright green eyes. He doesn’t care to know how it’s possible, he’s just happy to still have the same, or a very similar, eye color. Surprisingly, even though two of his fathers have very clear skin, his own darkened, almost the same golden color as James Potter’s. 

Astoria gasps softly when he turns his head towards her, and she sees the state of his face. He definitely has similar features to Draco and Lucius, but what causes her surprise is the deep purple, almost black bruises on his jaw and cheekbones. Looking for other injuries, she notices the gash on his forehead and the fine white scars on the arch of his right eyebrow, his chin, his left cheek, and his bottom lip. Only her whole upbringing keeps her from bursting into tears. Why would anyone want to hurt such an adorable boy is beyond her. Her father also takes in the battered state of Gryffindor and opens his mouth to say something, but Hadrian will never know what because Nagnok enters the office by a small door on the side in a visibly fool mood. The goblin smacks down a heavy folder on his desk, the sound causing the teen to flinch violently.

This makes Nagnok look up and he hisses in anger as he sees the state in which James’ son is in. The despicable people who did this to him will pay dearly, he will see to that. Starting with goddamn Dumbledore, who apparently managed to steal more than half a million galleons from the Potter vaults and priceless artefacts. The man also made some transfers to multiple accounts, and the goblin really doesn’t want to tell the already beaten down teenager that his friends were paid an important sum of money. But it’s his job, so he swallows down any personal feeling.

\- I am sorry to inform you that there are discrepancies in your accounts. Albus Dumbledore transferred a little bit more than half a million galleons in his personal account from the Potter vaults, acting as your self-designed magical guardian. Since august 1991, every month, a thousand galleons stipend was sent to the Weasley family account. Every two weeks, two hundred galleons were sent to Ronald Weasley’s account, with a special payment of a thousand galleons at the end of each year. Last November, he also received five thousand galleons. Every two weeks, since November 1991, two hundred galleons were sent to an account set up for Hermione Granger. Priceless books were also deposited in this vault, from your own. Since September 1992, every month, five hundred galleons were sent to Ginevra Weasley’s account and pieces of family jewelry were deposited in the same vault. This July, a donation of one hundred thousand galleons was made to an organization called the Order of the Phoenix.

Nagnok says all that in a calm, emotionless tone, even if he’s boiling inside. He can tell that Lord Greengrass is as furious as he is. Hadrian, him, just stands there, staring at him with growing horror, and no one knows what to say when the manager finishes. What do you tell to someone who just learned that their closest friend, their almost family, have been stealing from them? And a hefty sum at that. The teen closes his eyes, ignoring the way he’s dying inside, and doesn’t recognize his own voice when he speaks, because of the tears stuck in his throat.

\- Was anything sent to a muggle account?

The banker blinks, surprised by the question, and briefly consults the transactions before answering.

\- Yes. A thousand pounds was sent to Vernon Dursley account every month.

That does it for Hadrian. His legs give in and his knees hit the marble floor painfully, but he doesn’t care. The pain in his chest is so much more agonizing. How many times did the Dursleys complained about how much he costed them even if they never got him anything? All this time, they were paid to take care of him. The money was probably spent on their darling Dudley, thinks the boy bitterly. Painful memories flooding his mind, he barely register Greengrass kneeling next to him. Thankfully, the man doesn’t try to touch him. He just says softly:

\- I’m really sorry, Hadrian. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I promise you that they will pay. Every single one of them.

Hadrian doesn’t tell him that it means everything to him to have someone willing to stand next to him as he faces Dumbledore and the Weasleys. He just wraps his arms around himself, taking deep breaths, to stop the incoming sobs. He can’t break down, not now. 

\- What do we need to do, now? He asks, lowly.

Cyrus sighs deeply. It’s unsurprising that the boy he’s bottling it all up, but it doesn’t mean it’s the healthiest thing to do. Though, in some way, it’ll be helpful, for now. There is so much to do.

\- If manager Nagnok allow me to use his floo connection, I will ask Lucius to come…

\- NO!

The man rears back at aggressive reply he gets, not only from Hadrian, but from his own daughter. He raises a surprised eyebrow at her, as he watches the lion crawl backwards towards the corner of the room, in his peripheral vision.

\- Have you gone mad? Asks Astoria. Everybody knows that they can’t stand each other. There are rumors that Lucius even tried to hurt Hadrian.

The interested laughs hollowly, pulling his knees to his chest.

\- He tried to kill me, in fact.   
Cyrus gapes at him, because his best friend might be short tempered, but he would never hurt a child. Well. Maybe to Harry Potter. Not only he is the Boy-Who-Lived, but he is the living proof of James betrayal. Ah, yes, maybe, Lucius should wait. The Lord nods.

\- I understand. But you have to know that while Lucius has his faults, he will love you. No matter what.

Hadrian doesn’t acknowledge the claim because it’s false. Nobody loves a freak, he knows that much. He has learned his lesson with the Weasleys. He doesn’t belong with normal people. 

\- The good news, continues the man after a few beats of silence, is that you are legally an adult. No one can force you to do anything. 

The raven-haired teen looks up to his account manager, who is watching him in concern.

\- Does that mean I can live on my own?

The goblin nods worriedly. While he understands why this his what Hadrian would want to do, he isn’t sure it’s the best course of action right now. The Greengrass girl visibly agree because she speaks up.

\- Kitten, you look like you could use a good night of sleep before deciding anything. Why don’t we take you back to the manor with us and come back tomorrow after some rest, hmm?

Hadrian hesitates. He doesn’t trust the Greengrasses at all, no matter how kind they seem to be, but the cleansing ritual exhausted him, and he needs time to think before doing anything. He obviously can’t go back to Grimmauld Place for the night. He would blow a gasket at the sight of red hair and he probably wouldn’t be able to sneak out again, anyway. He could go into one of his properties, but… A part of him doesn’t want to be alone. He’s afraid of what he might do, if left to his own devices. So, he reluctantly looks at the older man.

\- Would you mind, sir?

Cyrus smiles sadly at the tiny boy.

\- Of course not, Hadrian. And call me Cyrus, alright? We can take care of this mess tomorrow.

Hadrian nods slowly, before getting to his feet, wincing as the welts on his back flares up to life due to the movement. No one in the room miss this, but, after exchanging a glance, they decide against commenting on it. As much as they want to protect him, asking questions now would only serve to make him defensive.

\- I’ll be waiting for you at eleven o’clock. I will investigate all the transactions of the past fourteen years, in the mean time, informs them Nagnok.

\- Thank you, for everything, replies Hadrian softly.

It makes the goblin’s guilt doubles. The boy has lost everything in the past hours and now, he’s thanking him? He should have done something before, even if that meant kidnapping. James had trusted him, and he had failed. He doesn’t voice any of this as he watches the girl guide Hadrian out of his office. Greengrass nods at him before following them into the hall where Astoria is making the Gryffindor practice the name of their destination and the password. Once she’s pretty confident he won’t muck it up, she sends him through the green flames. As soon as he disappears, she turns to her father, her eyes filling with tears.

\- Dad…, she says.

It’s been years since she’s called him that in public, preferring father, as it’s tradition among purebloods, but her heart is breaking for her future brother-in-law, who seems to be Fate’s favorite plaything. Cyrus squeezes her shoulder comfortingly.

\- I know, Tori. I know.

Then, he pushes her softly towards the chimney. He doesn’t want Hadrian to be left all alone in an unknown manor for too long. She takes a deep breath, blinks furiously the tears away and floos back home. Hadrian is standing awkwardly to the side, wringing his hand as he waits for her and Cyrus. The man appears in the green flames mere seconds after his daughter and smiles reassuringly at his best friend’s son.

\- Here, come with me. I’ll show you to your room. Astoria, if you could go explain what happened to your mother, please?

The girl walks away, but not without hugging Hadrian quickly. The boy blinks in shock. He’s not very much used to physical contact, except from Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, but they are never gentle in their embraces, almost breaking his ribs every time. Cyrus chuckles at his bewildered expression and motions for him to follow. Astoria always manages to surprise everyone, because, while she does respect the wizarding traditions, she has nothing of the pureblood heiress, leaving that to Daphne. She very much takes after her mother in that way. The Lord leads Hadrian to the west wing of the second floor, reserved for family friends, not that he tells him that. It would only scare him away.

Hadrian’s jaw almost touches the ground when he opens the door to the room Cyrus designed him. Well, shit. The canopy bed only is probably the size of his bedroom at Privet Drive. The whole décor screams of money, with the dark wood trim and expensive looking fabrics. The soft earthy tones are comforting in a way the Gryffondor colors would never be and it makes him want to call this home. He almost slaps himself when he catches the thought. He can’t get used to this. It will only hurt more when it’s taken away from him.

\- It’s too much, I can’t, he stammers, but Greengrass holds up a hand to interrupt him.

\- Don’t worry about it. You need to rest.

The no-nonsense tone keeps the boy from arguing, knowing already that it would be useless. Hadrian hovers on the doorstep, looking uncertain, before stepping in. The plush material of the rug silences his already light steps as he walks towards the bed. It seems so comfortable, even more with how tired he is right now.

\- If you need anything, call for Noky, says the Lord.

Cyrus lingers a little bit, endeared by the obvious wonder of the teenager as he examines what most pureblood would call a standard guest bedroom, before declaring:

\- Goodnight, Hadrian.

And if he hears the softest whisper of Goodnight before he closes the door, he will never tell a soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I like the idea of making this a Marcus Flint X Harry Potter fic, as suggested by Stearinlys, but I’m still taking suggestions. 
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments!
> 
> Love, CC.


	4. Truths are best served after breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast at the Greengrass and Lucius gets told.

No matter how tired he is, Hadrian stares at the ceiling a good part of the night. There is a heavy weight on his chest as he remembers meeting Ron. He can still taste every candy they ate and hear the sound of their carefree laughter. Had it all been staged? Probably. No matter how much they fought, he would have died for him. He had dumbed himself down so many times to make the redhead more comfortable. That and keep Hermione’s jealousy down. He had seen how she glared at the others when they answered correctly, and he hadn’t wanted to cause any problem. The only class where he could show the slightest hint of talent is Defence, but that’s only because it’s expected of him. A few tears slide down his cheek as memories flash in his mind. 

The banner during his first quidditch game. Going through the trapdoor. Brewing Polyjuice in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Seeing Hermione after she was unpetrified. Their stupid quarrels and big fights over the years. Ron standing up to Sirius. Them laughing. A hug here and there. A meal at the Burrow. The Weasleys coming before the Third Task to support him. It hurts all so much, but he just can’t stop thinking about it. In the dead of the night, with silent sobs wrecking his body, Hadrian Potter’s heart all over again and he vows to himself to make them hurt just as bad as he does.

He’s woken up by a soft pop. His reflexes kick in before the memories of the previous day and he’s suddenly standing, pointing his wand at a house-elf. The bulging eyes widen even more before filling with tears. Hadrian notes quickly that the creatures has no sign of mistreatments, like Dobby had, and wears a soft blue tanga. Her voice is squeaky and feminine when she speaks up.

\- Noky is sorry, little mister Potter. Master Cyrus sent Noky to wake you up. 

Breathing deeply to calm his racing heart, Hadrian smiles softly at her. He always feel some sort of compassion for house-elves. Maybe the aftermath of being treated like one most of his life.

\- No problem, Noky. I’m sorry for scaring you.

She blushes a little and gestures to a pile of clothes on the bed.

\- Noky has brought clothes for you. Breakfast will be served in half an hour.

Noky disappears with another pop, leaving the boy standing alone in the room who seems even bigger in the light of the day. It’s actually making him a bit uncomfortable. He doesn’t really like open spaces, they make him nervous. He notices a door to his right that he hadn’t seen the night before and tentatively opens it. Nothing jumps at him and there is no screaming for touching things he shouldn’t touch, so he peers inside, and his jaw goes slack when he sees the luxurious bathroom. What is it with purebloods and flaunting their money?

He enters the room, shivering when his bare feet contact the cold marble. He observes the gigantic shower with curiosity, only used to those at Hogwarts and the hose when he was at Dursleys. They didn’t want him contaminating their things with his freakishness. The best he had during winter was the sink. So, the bathroom is a bit of shock to him. Reminding himself that he only have half an hour before breakfast, he hops under the water. He makes sure to keep it cold, unsure if he’s allowed hot water here. It’s all very confusing and he can’t wait to be back at Hogwarts. It’s not safe in any way, but, at least, he knows what to expect. 

After his shower, he hesitantly grabs the clothes left for him on the bed. It’s nothing too fancy, a black shirt and black slacks but the quality of the material makes him a bit uncertain. But considering his only other options is to put on the hand me down’s from Dudley he wore yesterday, he made his decision quickly and got dressed. The slacks are a bit big and way too long, but it’s already better than anything his cousin have ever worn. Fidgeting with his sleeves, Hadrian looks up in the mirror and gasps before giggling softly. No more Potter cursed hair for him. Though his hair is still a bit messy, it looks better because of the curls. 

His amusement fades as he looks sadly at the traces of his relatives’ treatment. He knew the scars and the bruises were there, but it’s easier to ignore them when nobody else can see it. Closing his eyes tightly, he keeps wishing over and over for them to be invisible. It’s something that used to happen automatically most of the time, but his magic needs a little push after the purging ritual. Sure enough, after a few seconds of intense concentration, he feels the familiar brush of his glamour as it settles. When he opens his eyes, there is no shadow of a bruise or scar. He smiles at his reflection. 

Just as he finishes putting on his shoes, Noky pops in to lead him to the dining room. As they walk through the manor, Hadrian feels even more dazed. Everything looks so expensive and beautiful. He suddenly very aware of himself. He may have new clothes, but he still feels like the scruffy kid he is normally. The house-elf leaves him at the threshold of a brightly illuminated room which contains a table for a family of ten, rather than the four people currently sitting around it. It bewilders him a bit, but it’s mostly very intimidating. He has half a mind to bolt out of the manor, but the blond woman next to Cyrus looks up at that moment. A kind smile settles on her face as she walks to him and all but pull him towards the table. 

\- Here, you need to eat, love. You are entirely too frail. Growing boys need food. Once we fatten you up a bit, you’ll be breaking hearts all over Hogwarts. Call me Herya, Hadrian dear. Oh, do you prefer Harry or Hadrian?

The boy gapes at her as she starts putting food on his plate, wondering how someone can fit so many words into such a short time. Cyrus chuckles fondly at his wife’s antics. There is no question as of who Astoria takes from. After a few seconds, where the Gryffindor tries to comprehend the speech, he finally stutters:

\- Err… Hadrian, please.

Daphne lets out a soft humming sound from her seat, opposite to him. Her face is calm and devoid of all emotion, as per usual, but there is an amused twinkle in her eyes.

\- Good choice. She would have pestered you until you decide to use your birth name, otherwise.

Lady Greengrass scoffs, but there is a small teasing smile decorating her face. It makes Hadrian’s chest constrict painfully. He would hand over the world to have moments like this with his family. He rapidly squashes down the pain. It was robbed from him a long time ago, there is no reason to dwell on something that will never be. Freaks don’t belong with normal people. He moves his food around his plate more than he eats it, but nobody comments on it. 

\- Daphne and Astoria told us you are a fair Quidditch player. How did you manage to make the team during your first year? Asks Cyrus, trying to distract the younger from his somber mood.

It works perfectly. Hadrian glances at Daphne, who was present during the incident, and they start snickering, though her more gracefully than him. Astoria frowns, confused.

\- What are we missing?

\- Let’s say that no one will ever doubt he has the Black insanity, replies the oldest girl with a small smile.

She is usually more collected and secretive around people, but she can tell that Hadrian wouldn’t take her mask very well. And it’s very hard to stay impassible when he’s looking at you with that adorable expression on his face, like a lost puppy. Her remark prompts a raised eyebrow from her father and a concerned expression from her mother. The Black insanity is something very well known and the members of that specific are often teased about it, not that it bothers them. It’s actually a pride for them, because it’s always accompanied with much more magical power than the average wizard has. Herya just doesn’t want the tiny fifteen years old to get hurt.

\- I plead the only reason that made me pull half of things I did at Hogwarts, he defends, his whole demeanor brightening.

\- Which is? Prompts the Lord.

He is relieved that Hadrian seems more comfortable than he was yesterday. He knows it’s probably only a façade, but it’s a beginning. 

\- Draco, deadpans the boy, with a poker face.

Astoria rolls her eyes good naturedly as her family starts to laugh. They like her betrothed, he’s been part of the family since forever, but they often tease him about his attitude. Daphne, in particular, is prone to snark back to him without batting an eyelash. Hadrian looks at her, surprised, when she says:

\- Now, don’t go blaming your little adventures on your brother.

She winces slightly at the use of the term, thinking that it’s what caused the reaction. The Gryffindor blinks twice before answering.

\- I mean, if Draco doesn’t challenge me in a duel in first year, we would never have discovered Fluffy, so we wouldn’t know about the stone being on the third floor. If he hadn’t bullied Hermione, we wouldn’t have brewed Polyjuice potion in the bathroom. If he hadn’t pulled the hippogriff scandal, we wouldn’t have saved Sirius. It’s kind of his fault, you know.

There is a beat of silence then:

\- He did what in first year?! 

\- Polyjuice potion?!

\- You helped a convict escape?!

Hadrian scratches his neck, uncomfortable with the screaming, and nods. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. In his head, everyone at Hogwarts knows of their adventures, but obviously not, as Astoria and Daphne yells have proven. The oldest Greengrass daughter mutters about cursing Draco for thinking about duelling anything else than a teddy bear in first year, her mother looks like she’s reviewing every way three twelve years old brewing Polyjuice could go wrong and Astoria is staring at him in awe. Cyrus, at this point, is unsure if he really wants to know but asks against his better judgement:

\- Fluffy?

He watches the teen wrinkle his nose cutely and almost coo at him, but his answer sends him back to reality very quickly.

\- Hagrid’s three headed dog. Let me tell you: that thing drools.

Decorum being thrown out the window, Daphne bangs her head on the table, under Hadrian’s concerned stare. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his answer. Cyrus glances at his wife to find her looking as if she was considering pulling the girls out of Hogwarts. He can’t really blame her. Who in their right mind put a Cerberus in a school full of children? Ah yes, lemon-sucking bastards. 

\- You met a Cerberus when you were eleven and you were worried about drool? Half-screeches Astoria.

\- Hey! That was my first Weasley jumper he drooled on.

Immediately, the mood plummets. Hadrian closes off as soon as the words are out of his mouth. He had cherished his Weasley jumpers. To find out they were nothing more than a manipulation hurts like hell. He’s half-tempted to burn them. He’s just not sure he’s ready to let go. They may have never cared for him, but he had loved them. He can’t just erase it, no matter how much he wishes to. They finish breakfast in silence, no one really knowing how to comfort the boy who lost it all. His expression is so pained that Cyrus feels like a monster for adding to it.

\- Hadrian, I understand that you are afraid of Lucius’ reaction, but I cannot hide you from him. I’m really sorry.

The piercing green eyes go from desperate sadness to dull void. It’s almost like looking in the eye of a dead person and it frightens him. He doesn’t want to break his godson further. Hadrian locks away all of his feelings. He knew this would happen. He’s just bracing himself for the rejection he’s going to experience. So, he nods, completely numb. It’s not like he can stop this from happening. He’s powerless, useless, pathetic. Simply, other people doesn’t need to know about the utter devastation he will go through. 

Cyrus and Herya look at each other, visibly hesitating. They know that the longer they wait to contact their friend, the harder it’s going to be for everyone. On the other hand, the emotionless expression on the Golden Boy is terrifying. Astoria seems to think so too, because she’s suddenly out of her seat and she has her arms around his shoulders. The embrace would be comforting if Hadrian could actually feel anything. As it is, he looks at her impassively as she smiles sadly.

\- We’re not going anywhere. We’ll stay with you.

Soon enough, Daphne ushers them both to the drawing room, as her parents follow. The boy sits stiffly on the couch, as close as possible to door, as if getting ready to bolt. It saddens the family. No one should ever be afraid to meet anyone, even less their own father. With a deep breath, Cyrus throws a pinch a floo powder in the fire and asks his long time friend to step in. He sees he confused the man, but it’s the kind of news you deliver in person. Also, he thinks that seeing Lucius first reaction will help Hadrian understand he is wanted. A few seconds later, the blond lord steps trough, looking worried.

\- Has something happened? Is Astoria well?

It makes the girl smiles softly. Lucius isn’t a very affectionate man, but he always shows that he cares about the people around him. Herya is quick to reassure him that everyone is well, confusing him further, until he takes a look around the room. As soon as he sets his eyes upon Hadrian, Cyrus grips the man’s shoulder to keep him from acting rashly.

\- Who might this be? Drawls Malfoy, though there is a definite tremor in his voice.

The taller man sighs. This isn’t going to be easy.

\- Luc… James never left you and Regulus.

Lucius frowns, his eyes never wavering from the teenager next to his future daughter-in-law who doesn’t look at him. He is staring at the door intently as if he wanted to be anywhere but in this room. As confused as he is, he replies just like he did those past sixteen years when it comes to James Potter. He denies everything.

\- What are you talking about? Why would I care about Potter? He sneers. Stup…

\- Enough, roars Cyrus, making the whole room flinch and Hadrian start shaking.

He hates having to do that, but Lucius is a very stubborn man who has spent more than a decade trying to convince himself that he had never loved James Potter. At this moment, the poor abused teen in the room doesn’t need anymore bullshit. He needs a father. He continues in a calmer tone, though there is a hint of steel behind it.

\- James never left you. He was trying to protect your son. 

\- What? Draco has nothing to do with this.

Herya cuffs the man behind the head for his obliviousness. There is none more blind than the one who doesn’t wish to see.

\- Not Draco, you dolt! Yours, Regulus’, and James’ son.

She tilts her head towards Hadrian as the truth finally sets in the blond man. A son. With the loves of his life. A son who doesn’t even want to look at him. But if James never left, then it means… Oh merlin. Harry Potter, the Golden Boy Gryffindor, is his son. And he almost killed him multiple times.

\- My son, he repeats, his voice breaking.

He’s transfixed by the sight of the tiny boy next to Astoria. He doesn’t see his face, but the hair… Just like Regulus. Though his skin is darker than Reg’s had ever been. Just like James.

Hadrian listens to the breaking of the news to Lucius, already prepared to run. Problem is the anger and disgust he was awaiting never come. The man just sounds broken and sad. He doesn't know how to deal with that. As Lucius says those two words, the boy’s hold on his emotions collapse and he feels angry, so angry. How dare the man call him his son after everything he did to him? After the Graveyard? After Hadrian had to fend his way trough life on his own? Rage like he only ever felt once, when he discovered that Sirius was his godfather and had supposedly betrayed the Potters, seizes him and he’s up in an instant, screaming.

\- NO! You’re not my father! You’re a gene donor! How fucking dare you? Not three months ago, we were both in that graveyard and I was held under the cruciatus. And you laughed, you son of a bitch! You laughed! 

Not even waiting for a reaction, Hadrian leaves the room, his magic slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t know that he’s leaving a destroyed man crying on his knees behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Thanks for the kudos and comments!
> 
> Brownie points for those who get the Teen Wolf reference.
> 
> Love,  
> CC.


	5. Origins and madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadrian's story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yip, yop, another chapter. I hope you're enjoying! 
> 
> This is going to be a Marcus Flint/Harry Potter story. (Marcus is going to be redoing his seventh year, so he'll be 18)

Lucius doesn’t know how long he stays on the floor of his friend’s drawing room, with the family watching him with a hint of anger. And he understands. What he did, what they all did, in that Graveyard is beyond horrible. He can see it now, with his mind clear. His son or not, the actions of that night are ignominious and there won’t be a day he will not hate himself for it, just like the horrors he committed during the war. He wants to loath the Dark Lord so much, but it’s not his fault, ultimately. He was a child too, barely older than Harry, when it all started. If anyone is responsible for this mess, it’s him. He should have fought his father, even though the man was rendered insane by the influence of the Dark Mark. He could have pulled a Sirius Black. He chokes up, as he remembers his child’s eyes. They are the same exact color as his mother’s has been, otherworldly green, but the hatred, the pain… No, there definitely never was such emotions in Elladora Malfoy’s eyes. The boy had seen too much, hurt beyond what words can express. And now, this. He just had his entire life turned upside down and Lucius doesn’t know what to do, or even if it’s possible, to repair the damage. Regulus would have known. He was always the softest, the most caring of them. But there is no Reggie, no James to help him. He’s alone and so desperately lost. He startles when a slap meets his cheek, followed by three surprised gasps.

\- Daphne…, starts the girl’s mother, but her oldest interrupts her.

Her gaze is cold as ice as she stares down at Lucius. The blond lord almost marvels at how unbelievable the old situation is. Daphne has a sharp tongue and a temper, but she respects pureblood traditions too much to mouth off to him, even less strike him. Though, it is not undeserved.

\- He needs you. So get up and go try to salvage this mess.

She’s right, of course, but where to start? Answers, maybe. Not for him, but for his son, who is probably highly confused. He must have been imagining every scenario possible to explain the onslaught of information. This thought shots worry through him and he dries his tears as he leaves the room, knowing full well which bedroom Cyrus would give the boy. The one besides Draco’s. Lucius can’t let Harry believe that he is unwanted, or that his birth is the result of war crimes. Bile rises in his throat at the idea. He enters, after an unanswered knock, and frowns when he discovers the room empty. Before his panic sets in, though, he notices the bathroom closed door. Strange hiding place, but so be it.   
He hesitates in front of the door when he gets no answers to his calls, even if the sound of rustling indicates that his son is inside. He can’t really blame him. He wouldn’t want to talk to himself if he was in a similar position. Swallowing a sigh, he sits on the floor, something he had not done since he was a boy and rests his back against the wall next to the bathroom door. He will wait, no matter how long it takes. He isn’t a patient man in anyway, but, for his son, he would be. 

\- You don’t have to say anything. Just listen, please. Can you do that for me, Harry?

There is a few beats of silence, as he remembers the events from seventeen years ago. He isn’t really awaiting an answer, just trying to choose the right words, but a half-growl reaches his ears.

\- My name’s Hadrian.

It’s gruff and there is more than one ounce of animosity in the tone, but he considers it a start. At least, now, he’s sure he’s listened to. A sad smile tugs at the corner of his lips at the name. How many times did Regulus and Lucius teased James for such having such a common name? It seems like he didn’t want their son to have a similar problem. 

\- I guess you’re wondering about your origins, even more considering Narcissa and Draco. Cygnus Black, Cissa’s father, was not a pleasant man by any stretch of imagination. He wanted to be Lord Black, but that was Orion, his cousin and Sirius’ father. He wanted sons. He only got three daughters. He wanted to marry them all off as fast as possible. 

Cygnus had actually been desperate to get rid of them. Bellatrix and Rodolphus were a match made in heaven, no matter the rumors, and they got married as soon as they left Hogwarts. After Andromeda ran away, though, all the pressure was put on the youngest. It had not been a pretty sight and was still talked in ushed murmurs. Thankfully, everyone lay the blame on the man, not Narcissa.

\- She was my best friend. I never felt romantic feelings towards her, or any woman for that matter, but she was afraid. In any case, I wasn’t particularly inclined towards anyone at the time. Our marriage contract asked for an heir, which suited me just fine as I wanted a big family. We had a special clause added so that a year after Draco’s birth, we would be able to dissolve the contract without damages to our name. We both had lovers on the side, in the meantime.

Lucius never regretted his marriage to Narcissa. She is his best friend, so saving her from ending up in a terrible marriage was important to him, and he would never had survived all those years without her. She also had given him Draco, something he would eternally be grateful for. The man closes his eyes with a sigh before continuing.

\- I fell in love with James first. He was just out of Hogwarts, could never keep his mouth shut and demanded attention. He was an Auror, so we would see each other at the ministry. I found him amusing, as he did not behave one bit like the pureblooded heir he was supposed to be. 

He had often oscillated between wanting to strangle the man and kiss him. James, of course, thought it was hilarious to enrage him. That had led to rather explicit encounters, only casual, until Regulus just walked up to them in the middle of a ministry event and called them "fucking morons". Lucius had been speechless, and so was James. They had always known Regulus, as he was Narcissa’s cousin and Sirius’ brother, but long gone was the timid boy. The youngest Black had spent some time in France after Hogwarts and had apparently came back with a sharper tongue than before and a confidence boost. Strangely enough, he was the one who had pursued them both. 

\- Regulus just waltzed in one day and never left. We were young and so in love. But the war was looming over our heads.

Lucius takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the white hot pain in his chest. Loosing them had very nearly killed him and guilt has been his faithful companion for more than a decade.

\- A long time ago, the Dark Lord made a mistake. He lost his sanity because of it. The Dark Mark…affected us in a similar way. I’m not trying to excuse the things I did, but you have to know. My father forced me to take it. At the time, though, I agreed with the original ideas of the Dark side. I still do in some way.

He doesn’t want to exterminate all muggles, but the separation between both of their worlds should be definite. The muggleborns should be brought in way earlier than eleven years old and taught the old ways. The Wizarding World should not have to deny their beliefs because of them. The blond lord shakes his head, this is not the moment.

\- Regulus and I took the Mark. James wished to stay neutral, but Dumbledore, damn him, kept pressuring him to join the Order. James caved in but refused to actually fight. Then, one day, he was gone. He was marrying the Evans girl, and refused to even look at me or Reg. I suppose he was pregnant with you at the time because they soon went into hiding. Regulus died not long after and I was left alone. I lost myself to the call for violence and blood of the Dark Mark. It was only Draco’s birth that stopped me from spiralling completely.

It must seems ridiculous to Hadrian, as he is a monster in his eyes, but Lucius had been way worse than he ever shown the boy. Draco had kept him somewhat grounded, but he was still hurting so much. There isn’t a day that goes by without him missing his lovers, both long dead, but never forgotten. 

\- This is your story, Hadrian, and no matter how much it pains me to think of your fathers, I love you. You might not want me to, but I do, and it will never change.  
His heart clenches painfully when he hears soft sniffles from the other side of the door and he looks up, wondering if James and Regulus are watching the carnage they left behind. Will they ever forgive him? Will his son forgive him? 

With an ease that comes with years of practice, Hadrian cries almost silently, curled up on the floor. It was much easier to believe his conception had been a fluke, not the result of a broken relationship, but he can’t unhear the story. Just as much as he can’t ignore the bone-deep ache in Malfoy’s voice. A part of him, the one starved for affection and desperate for a family, whispers to him to follow along, but he can’t. Forgiving the man means coming to terms with what happened, which is something he refuses to do. He prefer to cage up those memories and deny the feelings that comes with them. He wonders why James left the other two if they were so much in love, but he supposes Dumbledore must have had a hand in that too. Anger spikes through him at the thought of the old coot. He has never more wanted anyone dead than this man.

His thoughts derive to his friends once again and he wants to slap himself for his obliviousness. How could he think they would choose him over the word of the Headmaster? Hermione thinks he makes the sun rise every morning, Ron only cares about fame and money, and Ginny is obsessed with him in the most terrifying way. Hadrian is sure they don’t know about his real identity, though. Ron wouldn’t associate with someone who shares a drop of blood with a Malfoy, even if he were paid a million dollars. He flinches when there is a knock at the bathroom door but relaxes slightly at Cyrus’ voice.

\- We should get going to Gringotts if we don’t want to late.

The teen dries his tears angrily. He hates being so weak and pathetic. Composing himself, blank expression back in place, he opens the bathroom door. He had hidden himself in there because the bedroom was so big he felt unsafe and exposed. He barely glances at his father, standing rather awkwardly to the side, and nods at the man who opened his house to him for the night. Cyrus is watching him cautiously, but Hadrian knows nothing is showing on his face. He might be a Gryffindor, but his mask had to be perfect at the Dursley.

\- After you.

His tone is curt, borderline cold, but neither man twitches at it. Considering they are both close acquaintances with Snape, it isn’t that surprising. Lord Greengrass glances hesitantly at his friend.

\- I’ll wait for you here, says Lucius, but his son stares at him as if he hadn’t heard him.

Hell, he’s almost looking through him. It’s quite disturbing, even more considering that this is the Golden Boy. Hadrian follows Cyrus back to the room he arrived in yesterday, without as much as a look back. They floo to the bank, without Astoria, which suits the boy just fine. He can’t handle her gentleness or emotivity right now. He needs to stay blank. He can’t lose it. As they make their way to Nagnok’s office, he finds himself wishing he had never came, in the first place. That’s when the idea strikes him. What if he acted like nothing happened? Went back to his life? Denial had worked pretty well until now. Of course, he would need to be cautious as to not be drugged again. He might want to ignore the events of last night, but power is knowledge and the one thing he refuses to be, no matter his name, it’s powerless. 

He takes his decision as they enter the office. He needs to go back. He can’t be Hadrian Potter-Black-Malfoy. Freak, he can do just fine. Harry Potter, he can manage. But he never knew how to deal with the truth. After all, when your whole life is a succession of lies, truth becomes secondary. His reality is what he wants it to be and, as much as he hates it, he wants to be the Boy-Who-Lived. It’s easier to hide in plain sight. No one asks about the bruises, the flinches, the scars, the tears, when you’re a hero. With that in mind, he sits in the chair, facing the friendly goblin, and skips the niceties by asking:

\- Is there a way to make sure the compulsions and spells will never be placed on me again?

Nagnok looks at Lord Greengrass questioningly, but the man just shakes his head tiredly. He wants to believe Lucius can mend the broken boy by his side, but he’s not sure anyone really can.

\- You could claim your Lordships. Lordships rings usually protects against those things, replies the Goblin prudently. 

He doesn’t know why, but the look in the boy’s eyes makes him anxious. It’s like he isn’t fully here. And he can feel that there is a hidden aim behind the question.

\- Will Dumbledore be notified if I do it?

Nagnok blinks, surprised. Hadrian definitely has a plan, and he isn’t reassured not to be let in on it. As we saw, James’ plans tended to forgo the part about his own happiness. 

\- Not the Peverell one, no.  
\- Very well. I will claim this one. 

Cyrus is worried, but he doesn’t dare to interrupt. In any case, what can he do? He very well can’t kidnap Hadrian and hide him in his manor until he calms down, no matter the merits such idea had. He watches the Gryffindor slip the dark gold ring onto his finger, tensing slightly as the magic settles around the room. He knows that the Peverell is an old, powerful line, but the magic he just felt… It makes Dumbledore’s feel like a first year’s. 

Hadrian almost sighs contently as the ring’s magic wraps around him like a blanket in the middle of winter. It’s oddly comforting, but he doesn’t linger on the feeling. He learned a long time ago not to get used to good things, as they would always be taken away. In any case, he needs to get back to Grimmauld Place before they send a search party for him. He’s already in it for a quite the earful from Molly Weasley and the guilt-trip from Remus. He nods respectfully at Nagnok.

\- I shall get going then. Good day, Master Goblin.

On that, he stands up as wizard and goblin gapes at him. He’s just going to leave like that? Not ordering the payments to be stopped? No accusations? The whole situation is surreal, but this reaction is beyond their understanding. How can Hadrian just go back, like nothing happened? Does he have a plan? Why no let them in on it? Well, it does make sense he would be secretive, with all the betrayals he went through, but still. They want to protect him, that’s all. Cyrus calls out his name as the boy opens the door, making him pause slightly and look at him over his shoulder. The man’s breath leaves his lungs at the completely and utterly dead look in those eyes. 

\- I’m sorry, whispers Hadrian.

Then, he’s gone. And Cyrus knows he isn’t planning on coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I actually used to hide in bathrooms when I was younger. It's a small space with access to water, so it was securising. 
> 
> Anyway, the denial is there to stay in Hadrian and it's going to quite angsty. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments, I really appreciate it!
> 
> Love,  
> CC.


	6. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Severus learns the truth... In two very different ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies if this chapter is not up to my usual standards... I had a lot of work to get done for today, for school and otherwise. I still hope you'll enjoy.

Cyrus makes his way back home, dreading having to tell Lucius that his son is back with the people who took him away in the first place. He still can't wrap his mind around why the boy would make such a decision. Surely he understands the extent of the betrayal? That he isn’t safe with them? He can’t possibly still be loyal to Dumbledore after this. Or maybe he is. Cyrus will never understand those Gryffindors, too noble and self-righteous for their own good. He finds his family and best friend in the drawing room, sitting in a tense silence. His wife and oldest daughter are shooting glares at Lucius, while Astoria seems lost in her thoughts. That is surprising, he would have thought she would be the first to be angry on Hadrian’s behalf. The four of them snaps their heads to him when he enters, alone. No one says anything for a few seconds, Cyrus only shaking his head to indicate that the teen isn’t with him. It’s gut-wrenching to watch Lucius’ face fall, his pureblood mask forgotten, but there isn’t much they can do to console him. They will just have to wait for Hadrian to come back…If he does.

\- Unsurprising, states Astoria, sipping on her tea.

They all look at her in disbelief and mild horror. Had she known about Hadrian’s plan? Why not trying to stop him? The girl shrugs delicately, even though she is as devasted as her family. She knew that him running for the hills was a possibility but forcing him to stay would have made it worse and ruin everyone’s chance at forgiveness.

\- He’s hurting. Of course he would go back to what he knows.

\- But they are the one who hurt him, protests Herya. The inheritance test…

Lucius interrupts her, slammed out of his pain by the words.

\- What inheritance test? What do you mean they hurt him?

It suddenly dawns on the family that they have not shown him the test and they wince internally. That’s not going to go over well. The man has a very short temper and will probably be very protective of Hadrian. Cyrus looks at Daphne intently before handing the copy of the inheritance test he took home last night to Lucius. Thankfully, she understands the unspoken request and discretely takes out her wand, pointing it at the man, in case he decides to go murder Dumbledore. Better be safe than sorry, in this case. 

Lucius reads the inheritance test carefully, smiling softly as he learns the full name of his son and brushing against the words with his thumb almost reverently. He knew it was true, Cyrus never would have told him if he hadn’t been sure, but it’s different to see it written down on an official document. He raises an amused eyebrow at the list of godparents and picks up James’ subterfuge immediately. Sirius and Longbottom were only there in case he got asked who were Hadrian’s godparents under veritaserum. A dud, in other words. Any soft emotion disappears, though, when he gets to the Lordships and Heirships his son can claim, replaced by shock. No wonder James had wanted to protect him at all cost, Hadrian’s practically rules over the entire Wizarding World with that many titles. He doesn’t even know where half of them are from. 

Then, rage rises in his chest at all the magical alterations on his boy. It could very well had killed him! It’s a miracle that Hadrian is more than soulless husk, or a mindless sheep. Though, maybe he would prefer that than realizing all of the friendships he formed were potion induced. Lucius growls lowly when he gets to the contracts. He knew he should have ended the Weasley a long time ago. Those shameless, pathetic bastards are attempting line theft on his son! He’s going to ruin them, and hopefully, they’ll take Dumbledore down with them. He looks up to his best friend since before Hogwarts and states coldly:

\- They’re dead. The whole lot of them.

Even though Cyrus agrees to a certain extent, he can’t let Lucius do something stupid. Like throwing the killing curse at Arthur in the middle of Diagon Alley. Sometimes, he wonders how the blond made it into Slytherin and not Gryffindor. Draco is also painfully the same, something he praises his daughter for putting up with, because Merlin knows he can’t.

\- They also stole from the Potter vaults. A very vast amount of money, Herya pipes in.

Her husband looks at her in surprise and almost facepalms at the devious look in her eyes. She’s doing it on purpose. To punish Lucius or make angry enough to rid the world of Dumbledore, he doesn’t know, but it’s working either way. The other Lord stares at her, horrified and furious. His poor son was betrayed in worst way possible. No wonder he is in the state he was in this morning. 

\- Why would he go back to them, then? He asks, to no one in particular, but his future daughter-in-law still answers him.

\- Denial. And it’s a pain he knows, an uncomfortable comfort zone, if you will.

He looks at her in surprise and she stares right back. How does she know so much about Hadrian’s thought process? She obstinately refuses to answer the unasked question and he decides to let it go for now. It’s definitely not the most important thing right now. He understands the reasoning behind Hadrian’s actions, but it doesn’t mean he agrees. He would much rather have his son with him, at the Manor, safe. He needs to find him. Though, that’s easier said than done. The Dark Lord has been trying to get the location of the Boy-Who-Lived for months. At first, to kill him, then to apologize for the pain he caused him. His eyes drifts back to the inheritance test and an idea sparks in his mind.

\- Severus, of course. He might know where Hadrian is.

Cyrus shakes his head. He might be neutral, but most of his friends are in the Inner Circle, so he knows more than most. Even if he wanted, Severus would not be able to tell them where the boy is. Dumbledore is not a fool, not that much at least. He’s not going to trust his spy with such information without at least cursing him so he can’t tell anyone.

\- He won’t tell you.

Lucius stands up, holding onto the hope that he might be able to convince his son to come home, and paces excitedly.

\- No, but he might be able to give him a letter.

Understanding dawns on the Greengrasses. They might not be able to go to Hadrian, but they can convince him to come to them. Astoria calls a house-elf and asks for parchment, ink, and quills.

\- You should go home, tell Draco, and we’ll send you our letters.

Cyrus tilts his head to the side, considering Astoria curiously. Of course, he would love to see Hadrian again, the boy is family, after all, but he isn’t sure what they can do to help. Daphne visibly echoes his thoughts because she asks:

\- Our letters?

Seemingly unconcerned by the stares, her sister picks up a quill and starts jotting down some ideas on the parchment.

\- We owe apologies to Hadrian. He didn’t want to see Lucius and we forced him to.

The man in question flinches at the statement. He knows it’s true, Hadrian would not even look at him, but it doesn’t hurt any less. He can only hope he can repair his mistakes. Cyrus is crestfallen. Of course, Astoria is right, but he hadn’t known the extent of the hate between father and son. If he had known that it would hurt Hadrian so much to see Lucius, he would never had called the man here. Merlin, he would have hidden the boy forever. They did mess up, she’s right. As Lucius floos back to his own Manor, Cyrus promises himself that he’ll never disregard his daughter’s words again. 

Lucius stands in his office, trying to reign his emotions and wild magic once again. When he woke up this morning, this was not what he expected his day to be like. He’s devastated, but he can’t break down just yet. He’ll do that when his baby is safe. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees those green eyes filled with pain and his heart breaks all over again. He startles when the door opens and Narcissa enters the room to check on him, as she had been here when Cyrus called him. She frowns when she sees him pour himself a glass of Firewhiskey, worried. He doesn’t usually drink, even less before noon. Before he actually drinks, he stares at amber liquid. No. Drinking won’t help him at all. It’ll make it worse. He vanishes the alcohol and turns to his wife, shoulders slumped.

\- James, he starts, hating the way his voice breaks on the name even after fifteen years. He was pregnant. Harry Potter is my son, Cissa.

She stares at him in shock for a few seconds before hugging him, knowing that it must be very difficult for him. She listens with rapt attention as he recounts the events of the morning, anger and sadness duelling in her mind. Dumbledore is a dead man walking, that much she is sure of. Because if the Dark Lord and Lucius doesn’t take care of him, she will, and it won’t be pleasant. Hadrian is her cousin’s and her best friend’s son, he is family. And Black protects their family to death. She also shares Lucius’ pain. She had been the one by his side after James married the Evans girl. To think that he had never actually wanted to leave and that he was pregnant… 

\- Do you want to tell Draco? She asks when he’s finished.

He nods and she asks a house-elf to go fetch their son. There is a certain irony in the dichotomy between Hadrian and Draco. One hates their father, not without reason, and the other idolizes him, still not without reason. No matter the actions he committed under the influence of the Dark Mark, Lucius is a good man. Or he tries his very best to be and set the right example for their son. Draco enters the room and frowns when he sees the distressed state of his father.

\- Dad, what’s wrong?

The word is the only indicator of how truly worried the boy is. He very rarely calls Lucius that, even in private. It’s just not how he is, but it doesn’t mean he loves him any less. Sure, his father is exigent, but all fathers are on their Heirs, and it’s nothing extreme. In fact, he is quite doting, which led to Draco being a spoiled child. His betrothed, Astoria, made sure to correct that with a few well chosen words. She keeps him on Earth, most of the time.

\- Before you, explains Lucius, trying to find the right words, I was very much in love with two young men.

\- I know, I found the pictures, replies Draco instinctively before wincing. I mean…

Lucius isn’t even angry. He just chuckles. That boy is way too much like him, always looking through everyone’s stuff. The teen relaxes when his father laughs, relieved that he isn’t going to get yelled at, but he’s very confused. What does a fifteen year old relationship with Regulus Black, who is dead, and James Potter, who betrayed his dad and is dead, has to do with anything? He glances questioningly at his mother who smiles softly at him.

\- Your life-long wish was granted, Dragon, she tells him.

It takes him less that two seconds to figure it out. There is only one thing he had always wanted one thing that was never given to him: Siblings. He almost falls to the ground when the implication of the statement hits him. The boy he bullied for the past four years, tiny, scrawny Harry Potter, is his baby brother. 

\- Fuck, he mutters.

It’s a testimony of how grave the situation is that neither of his parents scolds him for his language. He doesn’t know what to do of that information. Part of him wants to throw a hissy fit because Harry Potter is the annoying epitome of a Gryffindor, but the other part just wants to smother him half to death, because he had always wanted to be a big brother, no matter of whom.

\- Where is he?

He looks around, as if the other teen would jump out of a hidden corner, and misses the worried looks that crosses his parents face. They are both praying to every deity in existence that Hadrian is alright, no matter where he is.

\- Back with those who stole from him, replies Lucius, barely keeping the anger out of his voice.

He wants to rip the miserable blood traitors, the mudblood and Dumbledore to shreds for how they hurt his youngest son, but he knows he can’t. He needs to act cautiously. He doesn’t want to upset Hadrian even more. Draco’s grey eyes snaps back to his father’s and narrows slightly. He doesn’t need to ask who they are talking about. Only Weasley and Granger would have been in position to do that. Seems like he’s going to have some cursing to do when they go back to Hogwarts. They’re not going to get away with hurting his brother. He watches his father rubs his temple tiredly before he says:

\- I’m going to talk to Severus and see if he can get letters to Hadrian, so read this and try to write a letter to him, please. 

Nodding fiercely, Draco grabs the inheritance test and exits the room excitedly. There is so much he wants to tell his brother, like how it was growing up at Malfoy Manor, how much he is wanted and loved and how they are always going to stand by him, obstinate and idiotic lion or not. Lucius, on his part, floos for the second time of the morning, this time to Spinner’s End. He wasn’t expecting to find his sons’ godfather drinking Firewhiskey straight from the bottle with a letter in his hand, visibly distressed.

Severus Snape is not a good man. He has come to term with that fact a long time ago. He has too much blood on his hands to ignore it, even though none of it was innocent. Despite this, he has never considered himself a monster. He reserves that name for Albus Dumbledore, the manipulative bastard who likes to play puppet with everyone around him. Severus had seen through the old coot’s grandfatherly act as a teen and had turned to Dark Lord as a result. He had not planned for the Dark Mark to turn his deepest, most violent urges against him. Earlier this summer, when said Lord accidentally recovered his sanity and freed his Death Eaters from the influence of their connections, all of them had been appalled to realize what they had done. War is a terrible thing and innocents always find themselves in the crossfire, but what they had done was just gratuitous violence. Most of them were sick with guilt, but none as much as the Dark Lord himself. 

The man had spent the first two days catatonic, then a week completely suicidal. The Inner Circle, or the part that isn’t in Azkaban, had to make sure he didn’t actually off himself, while dealing with their own emotional backlash. Severus had been the one the most often with him, as he didn’t have that much difficulty with coming to terms with his actions. Indeed, he used a technique called "shove it behind your occlumency shields and forget it exists". It’s how he’s been dealing with most inconveniences in his life and what gathered him his reputation of heartless git. Though, Severus isn’t heartless and finding a letter from his dead love among his morning mail was painful.

He had stared at Lily’s handwriting for the longest time before actually opening the letter. What he read lead him to nursing a bottle of Ogden’s, the certitudes he based his life on blown to pieces. The letter was automatically sent from a Gringotts’ account as soon as Potter did his inheritance test. But that isn’t right, is it? Because James Potter never stole Lily away from him and Harry Potter is in fact Hadrian Potter Malfoy Black, his godson. Lily had never ceased to love him or cheated, she married James to help him protect the baby he was bearing from Dumbledore and the insane Dark Lord. Severus is horrified when he thinks of all the things he did and said to the boy. Even if he had been Lily and James Potter's child, it was childish, but, considering that he isn’t, it’s just very sad.

He had hurt the son of his two closest friends, and a man he had learned to tolerate with time, beyond anything salvageable. There is no way Hadrian will not hate him. And Lucius is going to kill him. After he has a mental breakdown, obviously. He knows his blond friend enough to be able to tell that the news is going to be hard on him. Lucius had hurt the boy too, temporarily insane or not. Severus doesn’t even look up from Lily’s last words to him, a I love you he reads through teary eyes, when he hears his floo flaring to life. Not many people can enter his house like that and, considering he has not been offered a lemon drop yet, it’s probably Lucius.

Lucius stares at his friend, surprised by the state is in. The last time he had seen Severus like that was when Lily had died. Though, he had been going through his own grief at the time, so he wasn’t any help to the potion master. He understands when he glances at the envelope on the coffee table. The Evans girl had been James friend before everything and Severus’ lover, so he knows her handwriting. With a tired sigh, Lucius sits next to his friend on the couch, taking the bottle out of his hand and levitating it back to its place. Severus can get pretty nasty when drunk, and neither of them needs that right now.

\- Your son is Fate’s bitch, the man says after a few minutes on companiable silence.

The blond snorts softly at uncharacteristic formulation, even if it’s true. A side effect of being a professor ten months out of twelve is that Severus very rarely swears, and never in such a casual fashion. On the other hand, it fits the situation. So, Lucius replies sadly, thinking of his betrayed Hadrian, all alone, surrounded by vultures

\- Don’t I know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Dark Lord's reaction and Hadrian's return to Grimmauld Place.
> 
> Love,  
> CC.


End file.
